


Origin

by rogueleopard



Category: Death Note
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5199578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueleopard/pseuds/rogueleopard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Near, Mello and Matt come to Wammys? </p><p>From Near's trauma to Matt's abandonment, the Wammy's boys get into some of the events on how they came to the famous orphanage. </p><p>Matt completes the trilogy =)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Near

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an RPG my wife and I are doing. We mentioned the backgrounds of the Wammy's boys, but didn't get into too much depth. I wanted to try to get into the world we built around our characters.  
> I intend to do Mello's and Matt's as well. I don't play Mello, so I hope I'm forgiven for borrowing his voice :)  
> Finished Mello and Matt! Starting work on an tie in fic.

Part 1

NEAR

 

I suppose this is my 'origin story', so to speak. You could also call it my 'How I Came to Wammy's', or 'How I met Mello', or 'The Trauma or Near'. 

I still don't like close spaces.

******

Even a close-to-perfect memory can have gaps.

I remember very little of my life before Wammy's, but the two memories which stand out the most are linked together. Both more star my mother than myself. 

I was 4 at the time. It was late May and I was coming into our run-down flat after playing outside, leaving the door ajar. It was raining, and chilly. Stereotypically England weather, all-in-all.

She was on the phone, and barely paid attention to her muddy child.

"Mama! I was outside and it was rainin and Ben pushed me down and I fell in a puddle, but I didn' cry a bit!" I was bouncing in place. I was a fairly hyper child, before.

"Shhh, Sweetie. Mama's on the phone," she shushed me impatiently, while pinching the bridge of her nose. She did that a lot around me. I was a bit of a trial for a young woman. 

"So I tripped him and he fell and he cried a lot!" I rambled on, not really paying much attention to her.

"Sweetie, please. Go play with your blocks. Oh! Yes, I'm still here," she said, perking up. 

I squelched over to my blocks and started stacking them. Even then I did a lot of thinking while stacking things.

"Quillish, it's Beth. It's been a long time," I heard my mother murmur. She tried to be quiet, but the flat had good acoustics.

I had never heard that name before, and wondered if maybe it was my Daddy. I had never met him, and it had never been explained to my satisfaction where he was. 

"We're fine for the most part," she continued. "Except for one big thing. Thomas's child. I can't handle him. I really don't know how. Thomas would have known how to handle him. He's too much for me."

Who was she talking about? And who was Thomas?

"He's such a handful. He's all over the place and getting into mischief, plus he's always asking so many questions. I caught him reading a book the other day, Quillish! He's only four! How is he learning these things? I didn't teach him, and I can't afford to send him to preschool..... Yes, I'm sure he does come by it naturally. But I'm not as good at this stuff as he was."

I watched my mother slump a little in her chair. "Truthfully, I'm giving up. If Thomas were still alive, he'd be able to deal with him, but I just can't. He's too much for me to handle. And I don't want to anymore."

What was Mama talking about?

"I'm giving him up and moving somewhere I can get work. ... Yes, well I'm calling you cause Thomas told me this is the kind of kid you take into your orphanage. Hopefully, if just for Thomas's sake, you'll at least come and meet him. At worst, you can tell me the best place I can put him." She paused, playing with the phone's cord between her fingers.

"Mmm. Yes, we are. That's such a relief, Quillish. I'll see you soon."

She put the phone down and looked over at me. She didn't seem to see me at first, but then her eyes widened.

"Mud! You got mud everywhere!" She ran her fingers through her hair and looked exasperated.

"Mama, who's Quillish? Is he my daddy?" 

"No, but he's a friend of your daddy. He's coming by in 2 days, and you'll be taking a trip with him."

She scooped me up and headed for what I can only deduct was the bathroom. I guess I'll never know for sure, as that's when she died.

******

A quick interjection would be good at this point. Things I found out later in life, but are still integral to the story, will make understanding more complete.

In case you were wondering, my mother died of a rupture in the aorta of her heart. It's not hereditary, and I've already had my heart checked just to ensure it's strong. Her death was very fast.

Watari was a friend of my father's. He knew Quillish Wammy had opened an orphanage for gifted children, though he never knew the real reason.

Watari normally sent other people to pick up the children he was called about. L was, of course, picked up personally. This one time, he decided to make an exception. Maybe for my mother's sake, or maybe for the old friend who had passed away shortly before my birth.

He had only been called an hour earlier for a different child, and was going to send someone out to get the boy. Based on the conversation he had with my mother, he decided to go and pick up the first child personally, then go and meet me right after.

I won't give away too much about that one. He'll be decidedly angry with me if I give away his origin story. Whether he'll write it or not. 

Suffice it to say, Watari was taking a flight to Edinburgh to pick up one problem child, then would fly to Manchester for me.

If he had reversed it, perhaps I would still be the hyperactive, cheerful child I was then.

******

I won't get into too much detail of the days I spent, if just to keep my own nightmares at bay.

My mother was carrying me to what I believe was the bathroom, when she stumbled. A moment later she crumpled, still holding me in her arms. I partially fell away from her, but not enough. My mother landed on me and I was trapped on my stomach, her weight pinning me from my shoulder blades down.

I thankfully don't remember the entire time I was there, however the main thing to remember is Watari said he'd be two days. Two days to a small child is a lifetime. Two days to anyone in my position would be close to forever.

I struggled to get away for many hours, but I was four. A small four, really. I was only about 14 kilos, and mother was about 55. I was cold, dehydrated and hungry. Nobody answered my cries, and finally my voice gave out.

I slept a lot after that. Self defense mechanism? Likely, I'd say. I was in shock, and had little energy left.

But I finally heard something. Voices outside the flat's door. The door was partly open because I had never fully closed it.

Our flat was at the end of the hall, so people only came to the door when they were visiting us.

A knock.

"Beth? A man called.

"The door's open, can't we just go in?" a child piped.

"No. Common courtesy says we wait to be let in. A slightly open door is not necessarily an invitation."

"Hey, I see a hand moving!" The child ignored the voice. I heard the door creak, then footsteps coming closer. "It smells really bad..." the child started, then his voice dropped to a whisper, "oh, wow."

"Get back out here-" The man started to call.

"There's a dead body in here!" the voice right above me sounded horrified.

I looked up at him. His blue eyes were the most vivid I'd ever seen.

"Watari! There's a kid here! He's alive!"

I heard hurried steps followed by a few muttered oaths. A few moments later, the weight lifted off me and the boy with the bluest eyes pulled me out from under my mother.

"Are you OK?" he asked me.

"He's likely dehydrated."

"Want some chocolate?" The boy pulled out a half eaten bar.

Arms picked me up, much more gently than my mother had.

"He needs water and warmth, Mello. Could you please get a blanket, first?" Watari asked softly.

"Chocolate milk?" Mello asked. Mello? What kind of name was Mello?

"Water is best for now. First, the blanket."

"OK!" Mello ran off.

"Are you alright, child?" Watari asked. I heard him fine, but couldn't seem to respond. My head was fuzzy and I was cold. I stared at the corner, not really seeing it. I was in my shell, and I did not want to come out of it.

"I have a blanket!" Mello called, coming into the living room.

"Thank you, Mello. Please sit here," Watari said as he got up. I felt myself moving, and then was next to Mello. The blanket wrapped around us both, and was tucked in by gentle hands.

"Why do I haveta sit with him?" Mello asked.

"Think about it, while I call the police," Watari told him.

I knew why, even then. I was cold, and Mello was a bundle of heat. I could feel his heat starting to seep into me. I relaxed onto his arm.

"He's cold!" Mello called.

"Yes, he is. He's in shock. For now, keep him warm, and please try and get him to sip some of this water."

Mello moved, presumably to take the water, then turned to me. He stuck a straw between my lips. This was something I could do. I started sipping the water.

I'm not too sure of everything that happened after that. I know the officials arrived, and things became very confusing. People tried to get me to tell them what was happening, but I wasn't coming out of my shell.

"What's his name?" I heard Mello ask.

I was being carried outside, still wrapped in the blanket. 

"I believe we'll call him Near."

Near? That's not my name, I'd thought. What kind of name is Near?

"We change the names of the orphans for anonymity's sake," he said quietly to me. "Where you're going, nobody goes by their birth name."

I didn't answer. I supposed it didn't matter.

"You're coming to Wammy's with us. We take in orphans and raise them so they can be the next L. L is the greatest detective in the world. If you do well, you can take over if anything was to happen to L."

"Except that'll be me!" Mello chirped.

Watari chuckled as he placed me in the backseat of the car and buckled me in. He arranged the blanket around me and patted me gently on the head. 

 

******

There isn't much more to the story that's of value to anyone, but for two things.

In London, Mello convinced Watari to buy me a toy. He argued I didn't have any of my toys from home. He picked out a robot for me. When Watari tried to give it to me, I didn't pay attention to it. When Mello tried, I clutched onto it. I still have the robot.

My readers shouldn't read too much into the situation. 

The final thing of interest? I didn't speak again for a year.


	2. Mello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mello's manipulated into writing his past events, and sets the record straight from his end.

MELLO

 

He drives me crazy, Near. Now it's this challenge. 

He says I can't write an 'origin' story in the same vein like he did his stupid thing. Then, when I protest I could if I wanted to, I knew he had me.

He's so bloody manipulative. 

I guess I should correct his mistakes where I'm concerned. 

And for the record, I do not, nor have I ever, 'chirped'.

********

So, a short background is in order. I was was raised just outside of Edinburgh, Scotland. On the edge of Dalkeith, really. 

I was pretty lucky for my early life. My parents adored me, and each other. My father had a small glass shop connected to our small home, and it was pretty cool to watch him take a slug of glass and make hand blown glasses, vases and such. He'd also manipulate the hot glass into animals and other figures. 

I actually liked school. Learning things came pretty easily to me, and my teachers liked me. I was never afraid of asking questions, and I picked things up quickly. I liked to read a lot, and would read anything my parents, and teachers would let me.

I was at school when the disaster happened. Nobody is exactly sure what cause it, but there was a fire in the workshop. My father wasn't in there so it spread quickly. They died together, in each others' arms.

 

Near doesn't like close spaces. Even though I wasn't there, to this day, I don't like fire.

******

I was told by the police officer who had come to take me out of school to my 'new home'. They had waited most of the day to tell me. He was pretty uncomfortable, and I didn't make it easy on him. I thought my parents were the best.

I didn't go back to that school again, and I was at the orphanage for about 4 months.

As this is a record of How I Went To Wammy's, I won't get into the dirt of living at the orphanage.

******  
I was there during the phone call that led me to Wammy's. I guess it was an hour before Near's mom called. I don't like the little fart, but I do wish Watari had gone to get him first. 

Well, I was a little terror at the orphanage. It was one of the convent orphanages, and there were about 14 sisters, as well as the mother superior. 

I had at least one of the sisters in tears more than once a week. I didn't necessarily want to make them cry; it just happened that way. I was in the mother superior's office more often than any of the other children. Perhaps in the history of the place.

Really, though, I was too much for them to handle. I was the smartest kid in my classes and regularly outstripped all in my grade. I was skipped two classes in that four months, just to try and get me into a class that challenged me. Still hadn't worked, and I was bored, creative and liked to have fun.

Damn, this is getting too wordy. 

You know all you need to know. Let's get to the meat of the story.

******

"Child, I don't know what to do with you." This was the Mother Superior of the order. AKA the Wombat.

"You don't haveta do nuthin with me," I was pouting, expecting yet another spanking. I got several. Funny, going to Wammy's didn't change that. 

"Sister Agnes is beside herself. Whyever did you decide to bring those creatures into her classroom?"

"I was bored." Still pouting.

"You should pay attention in class, boy. While it seems boring now, it'll benefit you. Instead, you're loosing snakes and frogs!" The Wombat was pacing.

"Don't forget the bugs," I added. "And class is boring. It's too easy. I finished my work before anyone else, so I wanted to liven things up."

"Can't forget the bugs," she sighed. "Too easy, hm? We've already skipped you to grade three. I can't see putting you in a higher grade at your age. I think..." she trailed off, and I cocked my head, watching her curiously.

It was about three minutes of silence. I was getting bored and started looking for something to do when she picked up the phone, and dialed from her directory.

"Yes, this is Mother Mary Margaret from the Edinburgh Convent and orphanage. I wish to speak with Quillish Wammy, thank you." I perked up for a few minutes and watched. When she started speaking, that changed.  
More boring. One sided phone conversations were boring. I looked out the window at all the kids running around in the yard, wishing I could go outside. 

"...yes, I would like you to take him. It's not so much the mischief, but he's bored with our classes. He's been skipped two grades already, and we can't skip him again. I know you're looking for children like this, and can give them an education that meets their intelligence level."

I was paying attention now. I knew she was talking about me.

"Thank you Quillish. I'll be expecting your agent." She hung up the phone, and turned to face me. "Well, child, I've found a place for you where you'll not be bored. The classes will keep you occupied better than we can."

"Where'm I going?" 

"An orphanage in England. It's called Wammy's House, and they accept only the best, and brightest children. You'll need to prove that you're smart enough, though."

She was a canny Wombat. She knew what to say to a precocious brat like me.

"I'm smarter than all them! I'll show anyone who says different!"

"Yes, well. Go up to your bunk and pack up your belongings. Leave out clothing for tomorrow and pajamas for tonight. Wammy's agent will be here tomorrow to meet with you. If you can prove yourself, you'll go back with him."

I scampered off to pack, without a clue how much my life was going to change.

******

Watari came to get me. Unlike the dodo Near, I had to answer some questions. I know I answered them correctly, but then they were pretty easy for me. I always was hungry for knowledge.

The Wombat never knew that it was Quillish Wammy himself that came for me.

She bundled me up, and out of her orphanage, with, I daresay, great relief. I was a problem child, but no longer hers to worry about.

Watari renamed me Mello right on the doorstep on the orphanage. He explained about the great detective L, and how I had a chance to succeed him if I proved myself. I decided there and then that I would be the next L.

 

******

"Where are we going?" We were on the plane. It was my first flight, and I was nibbling on chocolate to help pop my ears. We had to stay in a hotel the night before, which was exciting for me, and likely tiring for Watari. 

"We are taking a side trip to Manchester," Watari had a soothing, patient voice. I thought he'd dealt with a lot of kids. I didn't know he dealt with the biggest of all. I found that out later.

"Why?" Curiosity. One of my great strengths, and weaknesses.

"We'll be stopping there to meet with the wife of an old friend."

"Is your friend not there?"

"No, he passed away about 5 years ago."

"Wow. Did they have any kids?" I was peppering him with questions. I was the type of kid who asked 'why' a thousand times a day.

"Yes, they have a son. He's the reason we're going."

"Why?" See?

"His mother wishes me to meet him. I wish to see if he's intelligent as she says. If so, he'll join us on our journey to Wammy's."

I had to think about that one for a few moments. "Is his mommy coming, too?"

"No, she's not. He'll be coming with us without her." Watari sounded matter of fact, but his face was sad.

That made me pause for a long time. Long enough that we were in Manchester before I knew it.

 

******

We got to the run-down looking building at about 2 o'clock. Watari climbed the steps, while I dashed up, then went down a long hall to the end. The door was partially open, and Watari made a soft noise as he caught up to me.

He knocked on the door-frame.

"Beth?"

"The door's open, can't we just go in?" I asked.

"No. Common courtesy says we wait to be let in. A slightly open door is not necessarily an invitation," Watari said it like he'd told countless children the same thing.

I peeked around the edge of the door. A small, pale hand was waving. Sort of. 

"Hey, I see a hand moving!" I opened the door, and darted in. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was pretty ripe. Though at that age, I just thought it stunk. "It smells really bad... oh, wow." The body wasn't overly big, but the woman was definitely dead.

"Get back out here!" Watari called to me.

"There's a dead body in here!" It was pretty horrible. A small child looked up at me. His face was really pale, and his lips looked slightly blue and chapped. He had stormy gray eyes, though the pupils were so huge it swallowed up most of the colour. 

"Watari! There's a kid here! He's alive!"

Watari rushed in, and swore softly. He lifted the top half of the body up and nodded to me. I grabbed the boy and pulled him out. He was so tiny. 

"Are you OK?" I knelt beside him. His face was completely blank. He blinked slowly, but didn't say anything. 

"He's likely dehydrated," Watari put the body down and headed over to the tiny boy.

"Want some chocolate?" I pulled out the chocolate bar. It was partially eaten, but it always made me feel better.

Watari picked the boy up and headed for the threadbare sofa. "He needs water and warmth, Mello. Could you please get a blanket, first?" Watari asked me quietly.

"Chocolate milk?" This was my favourite drink.

"Water is best for now. First, the blanket," Watari gestured to the back or the flat.

"OK!" I headed out and down the narrow hall. I found a small bedroom with one of those beds with the railings. I grabbed a fluffy blanket, and headed back.

"I have a blanket!" I exclaimed as I rejoined them.

"Thank you, Mello. Please sit here," Watari got up and gestured to the sofa. I sat next to him and Watari wrapped the blanket wrapped around us, ensuring it was completely around the boy.

"Why do I haveta sit with him?" I asked curiously.

"Think about it, while I call the police," Watari patted me on the head with a slight smile.

I knew pretty quickly. The kid was really cold. He wasn't shivering, which was probably bad. I moved a bit closer. "He's cold," I mentioned.

"Yes, he is," Watari came in with a glass of water with a straw in it "He's in shock. For now, keep him warm, and please try and get him to sip some of this water."

I turned a bit. The boy was just staring, barely blinking. Had he blinked again at all? I ended up slipping the straw between his blue-ish lips. Water started moving up the straw. There was something in there, I decided.

******

The police came in after that, and started questioning Watari. A couple paramedics took the body away, and Watari opened the windows to get some fresher air.

They tried asking the pale boy some questions, but he wouldn't respond. I kept an arm around him while the paramedic put a warm IV drip in to get him hydrated, and help warm up his core.

After at least an hour, they finally all cleared out, and Watari got us ready to leave for the train station.

*********

Watari had the boy wrapped in the blanket, and was carrying him to the cab he'd called.

"What's his name?" I asked Watari. He must know the kid's name.

Watari looked thoughtful, then answered me, "I believe we'll call him Near."

I heard him murmuring to Near, likely explaining away his new name.

"You're coming to Wammy's with us," Watari continued, loud enough for me to hear. "We take in orphans, and raise them so they can be the next L. L is the greatest detective in the world. If you do well, you can take over if anything happens to him."

"Except that'll be me," I said firmly. Being the successor to L sounded really cool.

Watari chuckled as he put Near into the back of the cab and belted him in. He was still unresponsive. The paramedic had said it might take a couple days considering what he went through.

******

Ending it off, the train trip was exciting for me. It was my first, and there was a lot to see. Once we'd reached London, there was so much more to see that I was looking left and right, as if I was at a tennis match. 

While we waited for our ride, I noticed Near seemed to be looking at a toy. He probably wasn't, but I still talked Watari into buying it. Yeah, he still has that dumb robot.

I don't want to talk about meeting Roger.

******

Damn it, my story had more about stupid-head Near than me. My story was more sad than anything. His, being tragic, gave better drama.  
My last claim in this story is that I'm the only one he ever really noticed, or paid any real attention to, for the next 11 months. 

 

Oh yeah. I'm the one that got him to talk.


	3. Matt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt gives a bit of background, and goes over part of his first day at Wammy's!

Matt

 

Life is like skiing down a mountain. Some people are good at it, some people crash. Some people get the easy course, some get the course with the little sign that says 'Danger'- the one with a skull. You know the one I mean.

It's all luck of the draw.

In my case, I got a crap run, but so far, I can ski just fine.

******

So, Mello charged me with the story of how I came to Wammy's. I've read his and Near's, and they really didn't get into arriving; it was more of 'why I went'.

I noticed they kept their real names out of it. Probably for the best. I'll do the same. You never know when one of the kids in this place will find and publish this. There are some real brats here. I should know... One is my best friend

I won't focus too long on the circumstances that brought me in. 

Anyway, Near's is a lot more interesting. Mello's too, if only because of the way it intersected with Near's. I'm pretty sure it drive's Mello nuts. On the other hand, a lot of things drives Mello nuts.

****** 

I was born in south Dublin. While Wammy's trains you to lose the accent, when I get upset, I sound pure guttersnipe Irish. I swear that Mello pisses me off 90% of the time just to hear the accent. 

Like Near pisses off Mello because the rages he goes into amuses him.

My mother got pregnant at 13. I believe she knows who my father is, but she never told him. She quit school when she started showing, so it was easy for her.

I think she tried at first, but I was like one of those pets you get cause it's cute, and then you get bored of it. Not too fair for the life you're damaging, but she wasn't the brightest.

My grandmother helped her for awhile, but she was a pretty busy woman, and not the most maternal. We never connected, and truthfully, she never really connected with her daughter, either.

Anyhoo, my grandmother got tired of the mooch and her tag-a-long pet (me). My mother preferred being a kid, and went to parties, movies, and outings. She'd dump me on my grandmother as often as possible. Over time she wasn't allowed to anymore, and she'd just pull me along, and dump me in a corner with a handheld video game, then ignore me. We'd get home at 2 or 3 in the morning, sometimes.

It came to an end in early June, just after I had turned 7. Grandmother threw us out of the house completely. We moved into mother's junk heap of a car. If was pretty exciting, sleeping in a car. I got the front passenger seat.

For me, it was only a few days. In the middle of the night she drove to a church, and left me on the doorstep, sleeping.

Truthfully, this was the the best thing she did since she became pregnant. It might have been an accident she chose this church, but for me it was like I skied onto a less bumpy track.

One of the pastors at this church knew Roger, and I ended up being relocated in only two weeks.

I didn't have Watari come for me personally, but I still moved from Ireland to England, and was lucky to meet my best friend right away.

******

We arrived at about 11 AM. Coming up the main walk of Wammy's, the door opened. A kid about my age stood in the doorway, jeans and a baggy black t-shirt. Blond hair curled just below his ears. 

"Hi!" he chirped (sorry Mells, you totally chirped.)

"Hi," I blinked back at him. I didn't talk to kids my age too often. I went to school. Sometimes. But, I didn't really get on well with the kids.

"Good morning, Mello," my guide said genially.

"What's your name?" Mello ignored him. 

"I'm-"

"Now, Mello, you know he can't give his name. Roger will give him his new name, and you'll know it then."

Mello gave the guy a dirty look, then glanced at me. I rolled my eyes, and he grinned.

My guide took me to Roger, who I swear picked my new name from a hat. Or maybe he looked down at the rug on the floor and picked it like that. I could have had a cool name like Mello... I didn't know at that point he was named by Watari.

Roger has no imagination.

After assigning me my name, and explaining why I needed to use it and not my birth name, Roger took me upstairs to my new room

"You'll be rooming with Mello," he sighed. "His room just had a vacancy."

"How come?" I remembered Mello was the blond that welcomed me. It sounded awesome to room with Mello.

"Billy was sent to another orphanage. He didn't do very well under the pressure. He started to lose focus and began failing all his tests. A passing grade is 85 here."

"Oh." My school record was spotty. My mother didn't care if I went or not. In my defense, I went whenever I got sleep the night before.

"I don't do good in school. Why'm I here?" I asked.

"Father Ryan must have seen something in you," Roger said gravely. "I hope you'll endeavor to work hard."

"Um, ok," I really didn't have a clue what he'd said.

Roger nodded, and opened the bedroom door.

"Hey! What did I tell you... Oh, it's just you, Roger," Mello huffed. "What did I do, now?"

"Is Near bothering you again?" Roger asked.

"He walks in, sits on the floor and just... does Near-y stuff," Mello waved his hands around. He sounded a bit exasperated. "It's been worse lately."

"I'm sorry I can't help," Roger looked like he had a headache. Took me a week to find out this was his default look. "Near doesn't see me."

That was the oddest statement I'd heard yet.

"Well, you have a new roommate,"Roger changed the subject.

"Already? Billy just bombed," he sniggered. Roger made those pointless adult noises to say that he disapproved of Mello's joke.

I giggled, and Mello leaned over to catch a glimpse of me.

"Oh, it's you," he looked pleased. "Do you have a name, yet?"

"I guess it's Matt," I shrugged.

"At least you're not stuck with 'Mello'," he laughed, then fell over from overbalancing himself. We both snickered.

"I'll leave you to get acquainted," Roger headed out the door. "Lunch in 20," he added as he closed the door.

"The old sourpuss," Mello snickered, then grinned at me.

I laughed and tossed my bag on the empty bed.

******

Lunch was a classy cafeteria affair. Many kids sat at their tables and read textbooks while they ate. Each table had a white linen tablecloth, and a small vase with a flower.

We sat at one of these tables with a bowl of soup, half sandwich, drink and dessert.

"What grade were you in in your old school?" Mello was eating his tin of chocolate pudding before starting his lunch.

"First," I said from around grilled cheese.

"Really? I thought you were my age! I'm seven." Mello sounded proud.

"Me too. I missed a lot of school," I defended myself automatically.

"Huh. Well, I'm the smartest kid here," Mello boasted, throwing his shoulders back. "You'll have a lot to do to catch up to me!"

"I bet I'm pretty smart, too," I couldn't be outdone. "I'm great with computers. I'm sure I'll catch up fast!"

Mello laughed. "You're already a lot better than Billy. He just wanted to peep on the girls." Mello made a face. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to peep at girls.

"Ick," I shuddered dramatically. 

"I don't like girls."

"Me neither."

We cracked up, gaining a few reproving looks from the people studying.

"You're much cooler than Billy," Mello rubbed his face. "My face hurts from laughing," he added under his breath.

"Thanks. You're a lot better than any of the other kids I've met," I rubbed my own face. Laughing this much really did hurt.

"It's good to see you two getting along," Roger appeared, startling us both. We giggled a bit more.

"Geez, Roger, make some noise," Mello pretended to be in pain, holding his chest. "I'm too young for a heart attack."

"Hrm. Well. Mello, do you mind showing Matt around after lunch? I have a stack of paperwork as tall as you to get through."

Sure, I'll do your job this once," Mello said pompously, then sputtered into giggles.

******

One small side note. Mello stole my pudding. Even now, any time dessert was chocolate, I lose it.

******

"You're lucky you came on a Sunday," Mello told me as he was finishing up his tour.

"How come?"

"We have classes throughout the week, and Saturday is study sessions. Sunday is a free day, so we can do anything on Sunday. It's a rest day. Some people study, but I enjoy the break."

We headed into a large common room. "Some people," Mello added a bit louder, "do whatever they want all the time." This seemed to be directed to a small boy sitting in the middle of the room. He had tousled white hair, and sat oddly.

He cocked his head to the right and glanced up slightly. He moved his fingers to his hair and started twisting it. He looked back down and started adding wooden blocks to a wall he's already created.

He seemed... weird. "What's wrong with him?" I whispered.

"Don't worry. He can't hear you. They're not sure if it's PTSD, or maybe autism, whatever that is," Mello plunked himself in front of the wall. "This is Near."

"What's BDDS?"

"PTSD. Post something stress something," Mello shrugged. "I just think he went very quietly crazy. Anyway, you can yell, wave your hands in front of his face, or poke him and he won't notice. You at least," Mello smirked. "He'll notice me." 

I sat down between them, careful not to knock down the wall. It was about 90 centimeters long, the same tall, and a 15 thick. It was pretty impressive for what looked like a 4 year old. Each block was precisely set. 

"Hey, Near," I said. "I'm Matt."

I thought a saw a slight hesitation as he placed another block. Mello didn't see it, though.

"He goes to classes, but doesn't take notes or do the tests. Truthfully I don't think he can write anyway. He was only 4 when he got here. He's almost 6 now."

"Really? He looks a lot younger!"

"You should have seen him at four! He was a baby Hobbit! He does learn some things, but it's slow. It took me months to get him to come to classes and go to meals without me leading him."

"Are you brothers?"

"Hell no. We did come at the same time, though," Mello snickered. "For some reason, he only notices me. Roger will talk to him until he's blue in the face, and get no reaction of any sort. It's funny, really."

Mello sighed enough to move his whole body. "Near, this is Matt. He's my new roommate," he waved at me, and ended up knocking a few blocks over.

Near hesitated, with a small annoyed frown. 

"Heh. If anyone else had done that, he'd just start rebuilding," Mello shrugged, then moved his fingers through his hair. If fell back into place perfectly.

Near seemed to annoy Mello, but at the same time he acted fond of the kid.

"Don't they usually find other places for kids like him?" I asked curiously. 

"Watari says he stays, so he stays. I guess he knew his dad. Hey, try poking him a couple times and I'll show you what I mean," Mello lit up with the idea. 

"Are you sure?" I asked, and got a vigorous nod in return. 

I reached out and cautiously poked Near in the side. He was warmer than I expected. But I got no reaction. I poked him a few times in the stomach. I would get more reaction out of a doll, I decided.

"See? You don't exist for him. Now watch what happens for me!" Mello leaned over, knocking the wall down completely. Near frowned even before Mello poked him in the stomach. "I do this all the time. Sometimes I can get him to squeak!"

I laughed, watching. Near was starting to squirm, and bat at Mello's hands. He made a soft noise of disagreement.

Mello laughed and grinned at me. "See? He squeaks like a little white mouse!"

"He definitely made a noise," I chuckled. "It was cute."

Mello resumed poking Near, adding some tickling in for good measure. Near made more noises, getting louder as he tried to get away.

"Maybe you should let up," I looked concerned. Near was definitely unhappy. Mello was giggling.

Near made a soft whine, pushing at Mello's hands. "Stop...." I heard. Mello must have, too, for he stopped cold.

"Near?" Mello leaned in close. Near just panted softly. Mello frowned and started tickling him again.

"Stop! Mello, stop it!" Near yelled.

Mello stopped. "Near, you have a voice!"

"Of course I have a voice," Near grumbled. His voice was scratchy, sounding like it hadn't been used in a long time.

"Heavens!" I heard Roger gasp. He must have come when he heard someone yell for Mello to stop. I'd understand that later in the future. Mello still plays rough.

"He's talking, Roger," I pointed.

"Near, how are you feeling?" Roger asked hesitantly.

"Hungry. I missed lunch," he said, twisting his hair.

"I made him talk! I'm awesome!" Mello crowed.

"On this one occasion I won't punish you," Roger harrumphed.

"Punish?!" Mello got indignant.

"Yes. When I hear 'Mello stop', this means you're doing something wrong. I'll need to contact Watari and tell him the good news. Come Near, let's get you some food." Roger left the room.

Near slowly got up. He used Mello's shoulder as leverage. He glanced down at him and murmured something, before leaving.

"I'm amazing and cool," Mello grinned. 

"What did he say?"

"Not telling," he smirked. He never did, either.

 

******

I wonder if Mello ever regrets waking Near up. 

We did find out that Near could hear and understand what was going on around him. It was just 'too much' for him, and not everything got fully processed.

He said he couldn't explain why Mello was the only one he'd respond to. Truthfully, I think it's more of a 'wouldn't'.

He went on to be the best of all the students. He always seemed to know what buttons to push with Mello to make him fly off the handle. Like I mentioned, the rages Mello goes into amuse him.

As for me (cause remember, this was technically supposed to be my story), I became besties with Mello. In the end, I caught up to Mello as much as I could. He's always been a bit out of reach. 

I'll catch him soon.


End file.
